


We Say Thank You, We Say Please

by lickerish



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Begging, Biting, Blood Kink, Bratting, Dirty Talk, Discipline, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Manhandling, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Restraints, Rimming, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Steve Rogers: furious cock-hungry tornado, Sub Steve Rogers, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4251588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lickerish/pseuds/lickerish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rules say no backtalk, but Steve likes to pretend he doesn't know better. That's okay; Bucky likes to remind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Say Thank You, We Say Please

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyThylaMyCaptain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyThylaMyCaptain/gifts).



> This is an exchange fill for My_Thyla_My_Captain, who asked for post-TWS, sub steve, manhandling, face-fucking, bloodplay, begging, rimming, and bondage. There weren't any specs beyond that, so I just kind of ran with it. Hope you enjoy.

Steve had always been smart, but it didn’t take Bucky long to figure out the serum had given him a little extra in that department too. He’d always had a sharp mind to make up for his dull eyes and ears, and now on top of that he remembered things nobody should have; picked up on patterns before anyone else had seen them. He could finish War and Peace in six hours and learn a new language in a week. And that was all to the good; you wanted a commander you could trust to know better than you what to do.

But that was no excuse for lip.

Right now he was on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back, and he still didn't look a bit sorry. "Tell me again what you said."

Steve grinned. "I said it's your fault if I won't shut up."

"And?"

"If you want me to shut up you oughta make me."

"You're lucky you're a looker, Steve, 'cause you're the brattiest little shit I've ever met in my life, and it ain't like you cook and clean." Steve laughed.

"Lucky I _like_ workin' you over. Not everyone would bother after that little display. Tell you what, though, I'll let you off easy tonight. Gimme a good couple minutes down there, and I'll give you what you're after.” He put a hand on top of Steve's head and used the other to tilt his cock down to Steve's lips.

Apparently, Steve still thought teasing him was a good idea. The kid was incredible. “Promise?” he asked, leaning away like he was in charge. He was, of course—when was he not?—but that didn’t make it alright.

Bucky grabbed his jaw, looked him in the eye dead serious, and said, “I ain't promising you nothing, kid.” Steve’s smile faded. He was always hard work until he wasn't. “You get whatever I wanna give you when you've earned it, or you get nothing at all.”

Steve was breathing harder now, but he wasn’t answering, so Bucky tilted his chin even higher. “You got that? You listening to me?”

“Yeah, Buck,” he said, and went to work.

It was glorious, what Steve could do with his mouth. He was hot and sweet inside, knew all the little tricks that got Bucky going. Problem was that he knew it. "Not bad, kid." Steve made an agreeable noise, and Bucky felt his tongue curling under his cockhead. It was an effort not to seem too approving. "I think you can do better, though. You think so too?" Steve looked up at him. "Really? That mean you're not already trying your best?" He made a quiet sound— _mm-mm_ —and his eyes fluttered shut, but that wasn't any kind of decent answer, so Bucky pulled back. "Stevie. Was that your best effort or not? Answer me."

Steve hesitated. "No," he guessed.

"No," said Bucky. "You wanna get fucked, so you go out of your way to piss me off, and then you half-ass sucking my dick. How mad do you really want me to be, Stevie?" Steve licked his lips.

"Just mad enough to fuck me."

"Too mad to let you come tonight?" He waited a beat, but Steve wasn't giving. "How 'bout this," Bucky said. "I'll give you one more chance, and I'll help you out with it. You just stay right where you are and take it for me, and I'll do the rest myself."

Steve shivered. "Okay."

Bucky stepped forward again and wrapped both hands behind Steve's head. "No, that ain't it. What do you say?"

"Please," Steve said grudgingly, "Please, sir, and thank you," and parted his lips to let Bucky feed him every last inch of it.

"Mmm," he said, holding steady. Steve looked him in the eye. He had not a bit of shame, never had had, and Bucky had always envied him the quality that kept his back straight and his head up—even if it _was_ annoying as hell. "You know how to do this. Shouldn't need my help, baby, but I don't mind tonight." He waited till he heard guttering noises in Steve's throat, then started to move. "The mouth on you, boy," he said. "Can't believe the nasty mouth on you sometimes."

Steve really was nasty; he did things like this just so Bucky could tell him so. He grunted and choked and twisted a little, and Bucky realized he was trying to rub his legs together.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said. “No you fuckin’ don’t.” He pulled out and Steve gasped, but he didn’t look away and he didn’t look sorry, not even with his face all red and drool running down his chin.

Bucky grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him to his feet. “Guess I have to call it there if I don’t want you blowing your load without permission, you dirty fucker. Get your ass on the bed.”

Steve turned around huffily and walked across the room, balancing despite the restraints and looking altogether too composed for Bucky’s taste, so he followed a step behind and shoved him once he’d reached the side of it. Steve landed harmlessly on his front and bounced, kicking. “Hey!” he said, sounding offended. Fucking incredible.

“Did I tell you to talk?” he asked, and when Steve started to answer he pushed him down face-first and smacked his ass as hard as he could, so he could only shout. "Mother—" “Don’t answer that question, smartass. And watch your language.”

He grabbed the lube off the nightstand—not like they needed a drawer to hide it, God knew no one else was ever coming in here if Bucky had anything to say about it—and squeezed a generous amount into his right hand. Then he settled himself over the back of Steve’s legs and started opening him up.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Steve gritted his teeth, but he nodded against the mattress. “You could’ve asked me nice, though. That’s all you gotta do.” He twisted three fingers inside ungently and worked them in and out. “In fact—” he pressed in up to his palm and angled down to hit Steve’s prostate, smirking when Steve yelped “—you don’t need to say a thing.”

He stroked fast, then slowed down and sped up again, trying to get Steve frustrated enough to back into it. It looked like it was working: Steve was grinding his dick underneath him, forgetting to care how cock-hungry he looked. “ _That’s_ how you ask me,” Bucky said, and circled his fingers around the spot, and then Steve shoved backwards and he knew he had him. “That’s how you ask for it, you little slut.” He fucked in harder, almost too hard. "But you had to push it, and now you're just gonna wait."

Five minutes later, Steve's hands were straining against the cuffs and his legs were moving uncontrollably, almost like he was trying to crawl away. He was gone now, absolutely gone, feeling too much to feel anything, and that was good but it was dangerous, so Bucky paused and laid his metal hand gently over Steve’s tailbone, backing off to get a better eye on him.

His eyes were screwed shut, and there was a little wet spot on the sheet under his mouth, which opened into a grimace that Bucky only caught a glimpse of before it was turned away from him. Steve rubbed his face side-to-side, probably smearing it with his own spit, and groaned, shoving forward on one knee.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” Bucky asked, amused despite himself.

Steve pulled his knees under himself and rose up on them, shifting his weight mindlessly from one shoulder to the other. “Nowhere,” he gasped, sounding panicked and sorry and desperate. He wriggled uncertainly, like he couldn’t figure out what to do next. Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Nowhere, no, no, promise—”

“You got that right,” said Bucky, reassured, and with his left hand grabbed the back of Steve’s thigh and yanked him off-kilter. He landed flat on his belly, kicked back reflexively with his free leg, then cringed.

“I’m sorry, sorry sorry,” he panted. “Please—please—”

Bucky cracked him on the ass with his right hand, hard enough to raise a red blotch on the skin and a pained hiccup. “Please what?”

“Please—”

Bucky gave him three more, rapid and a little breathless himself. “Please what?” he snapped, and then smacked him again for good measure. His palm was probably stinging even worse than Steve’s ass by now, so he dragged his nails over the spot to make his point.

“Please—I dunno, I don’t _know_ ,” he moaned, and Bucky did laugh then.

“That’s all right, I think I do,” he said, and slipped his fingers back in. His left hand was still pinning Steve’s thigh to the mattress, and he let his mind wander a little while he stretched Steve open, avoiding his prostate now. Steve looked so damn good like this it would have been a shame not to slow down for a minute and take it in, even if it meant letting him catch his breath.

“Just look at you,” he said, wishing he could share the view. Steve wouldn’t have wanted to see, though. Damn shame; he’d never known a guy so embarrassed to be such a knockout. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen, baby.” He slid his fingers out then and spread Steve’s cheeks apart, squeezing the raw skin to make him gasp.

It was too much. He bent down and put his mouth on him, and when Steve started writhing away again, he looked up and said “Don’t do that.”

And there it was. Steve froze like he'd been caught, held his breath, and forced himself visibly to go lax. He opened his mouth, coughed, and tried again. “I'm sorry, sir,” he whispered. "I'll be good." _Finally_ , Bucky thought. _About time_.

True to his word, Steve held still through the whole thing and let Bucky lick him out to his heart’s content. He loved the noises Steve made, of course, and the taste of him, but more than anything, he loved that Steve let him do it. It always mortified him a little to get eaten out, no matter how good it felt, but he never said no.

He did it until he lost track of time, until he felt Steve shaking from the tension, then sat up, pleased with himself, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thank you, baby. See? That was all.” Steve arched up and whimpered, like he couldn’t wait another second now that he’d earned it, and suddenly neither could Bucky.

He grabbed Steve around the shoulders and hauled him up so they were back-to-chest. Without a word of warning, he shoved in, really giving it to him, giving with everything he had. He felt crazy, almost scared, and when he came he held on and ground in as deep as he could.

Steve made a strangled noise and jolted so hard Bucky had to hang on with both hands. He flattened him to the bed with his whole weight and bit down on the back of Steve’s neck, sucking and scraping hard with his teeth, holding Steve in place while he thrashed. He was wet all over; his legs writhed, feet kicking, ass clenching, and his moan broke on a sharp note and turned teary.

When he’d stopped moving, Bucky let go. He wasn't crying, not really, but Bucky shushed him anyway and stroked a hand down his side to gentle him as he pulled out. Steve's back was covered in long scratches, with shallow crescents where Bucky's nails had dug in. The bite mark was wide and dark purple, the center such a bright red it was hard to tell if it was really bleeding, and there was a thin layer of skin peeling back from it like a blister. That was all right, as long as Steve was all right; it'd heal by morning, and neither one of them could get an infection anymore. "You doin’ all right, baby?" he asked. "Still feelin' good?"

"'S good," Steve mumbled. "Feels so good. Don't go."

That made him smile. As if he could.

He uncuffed Steve's wrists and rubbed them gently to get the blood flowing. That probably wasn't necessary, he knew, at least not medically, and he tried to do it longer than he might have if that hadn't occurred to him. When he'd finished with that, he lifted Steve onto his lap so they were face-to-face, mindful of his still-erect cock. He combed his fingers through Steve’s damp, sweaty hair and watched him chase the touch with his cheek like a cat, humming contentedly when it passed around to the nape of his neck instead and tucking his face under Bucky’s jaw. His breath was even, but deep; long and loud, like a man hypnotized. He hadn’t come yet, but if not for the fact that he was mouthing weakly along Bucky’s collarbone, he could almost have been asleep. Bucky let the moment stretch on and counted ten.

Then he tightened the hand in Steve’s hair into a fist and hauled his head back up, craving the shocked look he knew he’d see on Steve’s face.

He rumbled a little, deep in his chest. Steve never let him down.

“That was so good, honey. So good. You ready for your turn?”

Steve was beyond words, and with his head held like this, he couldn’t even nod, so he opened and shut his mouth a few times, searching for the right answer. “Hn,” he managed.

“I know you are.” Bucky cupped his free hand around the head of Steve’s dick and rubbed it with his palm. “Here you go, baby.” Steve made a high noise, and Bucky grabbed him at the root and stroked him twice, and then it was over. He came helplessly, crying out with all that was left to him, and sagged.

Bucky lowered him onto his stomach and lay beside him, and then he set himself to kissing every scratch and scrape he could reach. It was beautiful, what Steve gave him. It was everything.

Steve really did look asleep now, but he was still hanging on, just barely. "Thanks, Buck."

Bucky eased himself down and curled into Steve's side, hooking a leg over him and closing in for a long, soft kiss. "You're welcome," he said.

Steve was always so polite.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank-yous are owed to [fuck-me-barnes](http://fuck-me-barnes.tumblr.com), [kissedbifire](http://kissedbifire.tumblr.com), and [sonickitty](http://sonickitty.tumblr.com) for letting me bounce ideas off you during the writing of this, and to [notallbees](http://notallbees.tumblr.com) for coining the phrase "Steve Rogers: furious cock-hungry tornado."
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [buckbealady](http://buckbealady.tumblr.com).


End file.
